


Home Is Just Another Word For You

by fiddleyoumust



Category: Bandom, Panic At The Disco
Genre: Alternate Reality, Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-31
Updated: 2010-12-31
Packaged: 2017-10-14 06:26:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/146346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiddleyoumust/pseuds/fiddleyoumust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Garden State AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home Is Just Another Word For You

Spencer watches the raindrops hit and slide down the window as the taxi winds its way up the road. The car is quiet. The driver doesn't have the radio on and he's not much of a talker, which Spencer appreciates. It's what Spencer's father would call a somber day. The entire sky is dark, like it's dusk instead of a little before noon. The windshield wipers keep a rhythm that Spencer can follow, and soon he's breathing along with them - swish, swish, swish - in, out, in. It's a somber day, and Spencer's mother is dead.

The house doesn't look different, which Spencer thinks is kind of strange. It should look different after all these years, but the grass is just as green, cut and trimmed and perfect. The paint is just as blue and his mother's garden is in full bloom, bursts of color that look even sharper against the bleakness of the sky. Spencer wonders how long it will take them to fade now that his mother can no longer tend to them, to wilt and die and shrink back into the ground, dust to dust, ashes to ashes.

It's just a few days into January and the Christmas lights are still strung along the edge of the house and over the bushes. The entire street has decorations of some kind or another and Spencer remembers this too, the blanket of holiday cheer that covers everything in town this time of year.

Spencer's father answers the door and at least he's changed. At least there Spencer can see some mark of time in the lines on his face and the silver in his hair. He looks _old_ , and Spencer wonders if he'd come home two days ago, when his mom was still laughing and singing and _breathing_ , if his father would have looked the same.

They stare at each other for a long time with the rain beating down behind Spencer so hard that it soaks the backs of his legs and his shirt even with the overhang from the porch to protect him.

There are a few people milling around inside the house, black clothes and black looks to match the black sky and Spencer's mouth is so dry that he's not sure he can even manage hello.

Spencer's sister Jackie appears behind their father, and Spencer thinks he sees a small flicker of something in her eyes before she touches their father's arm and says, "Crystal has a question about some of the food. Can you go help her, and I'll get Spencer settled?"

Spencer hasn't seen her since she was fourteen. It's strange to see this woman in front of him instead of a young girl in braces with pimples on her face. Spencer says, "Hello, Jackie," and his voice sounds like tires over gravel, rough and rumbly from disuse.

Jackie cocks her head, her body stiff and trembling, tears shimmering along the edges of her eyes, and then she steps forward and wraps her arms gently around Spencer, turning her head so that her cheek rests against Spencer's chest. Spencer stands, spine rigid for just a moment, before he slouches forward and curls around his sister, one of his arms around her waist and the other cupping her head.

Crystal comes running through the house then, launching herself at them, sandwiching Jackie between Spencer and herself. Jackie makes a small _oomph_ sound, but she doesn't move. She clings and Spencer moves his arms so he can hold on to Crystal too, pulling the both of them in tightly. They stand there like that for a long time, twisted around each other like roots in a pot that's become too small, and Spencer doesn't let go.

Jackie finally tips her head back to ask, "You're staying, right?"

Spencer's eyes go a little wild, because it feels good to have them, to be here, but Spencer's father is somewhere nearby and Spencer has a life in another place now and he can't. He can't.

Crystal says, "No, you idiot. She means you're staying here at the house. Like, for the funeral and stuff."

Spencer blinks and it's weird. He'd forgotten how creepy they could be sometimes, these two completely different people that still have this connection that Spencer could never understand, no matter that they were his sisters as much as they were each other's.

"Oh," Spencer says. "I'm not sure if... I was actually thinking a hotel would be better."

Crystal raises her eyebrow, stepping away, and Spencer can't. He remembers this too, how Jackie turns inward and Crystal lashes out. "Mom's dead," Crystal says harshly, the words like a hand across Spencer's face.

Jackie reaches out, touches the tips of her fingers to Crystal's wrist and they have some kind of silent conversation. Jackie reaches out with her other hand and touches those fingers to Spencer's wrist. She says, "Mom is dead, Spencer. Can you just stay? Please?"

Spencer swallows hard. He hasn't cried in so long he's pretty sure he's forgotten how, but he feels something in his throat, some foreign lump that he doesn't know how to get rid of.

Spencer closes his eyes and breathes deep. When he opens them his father is standing in the hallway, staring at the three of them. He looks... Spencer doesn't know. He supposes that if he was going to name it, he would say his father looks lost.

Spencer looks at Jackie, turning his hand so that he can take hers, twisting their fingers together. She does the same with her other hand in Crystal's, and Spencer says, "Okay. I'll stay."

When he looks again, his father is gone.

 

###

 

The rain stops long enough for them to put his mother in the ground. It's soggy and damp and Spencer doesn't cry.

 

###

 

Everyone goes back to the house. Spencer sort of wonders when that tradition started. He's tired from flying all day, and he's not... He misses his mother, but that's nothing new. It's just that now he knows he's always going to miss her, that there's no end to this pull, this loss that feels like a hole inside his chest. He doesn't want people or conversation or food. He wants his bed, but that's not here either.

He thinks about his apartment in LA, about his little plant in the kitchen that he really hopes Pete is remembering to water. He wants to go home and that breaks something else inside of him, that he can be here, in this place where he grew up, and it feels strange and foreign.

"Spencer?" someone says, and Spencer braces himself, turning to deal with whatever distant cousin or aunt or friend of the family is there to pass along their condolences.

There is a tray full of finger sandwiches in Spencer's face when he gets all the way around and he takes a step back. Spencer blinks and looks and then says, "Ryan?"

Ryan smiles and says, "Man, it's been like ten years or something. How are you?"

Spencer says, "Well," waving his hand around.

Ryan nods, but he doesn't look particularly sorrowful, which Spencer kind of appreciates. It's not that Spencer doesn't think people are sad, but she was his _mother_ and there's just no way anyone gets that except maybe Jackie and Crystal.

"She was a cool lady," Ryan says. "I remember she used to give me cookies and milk and she always made you share your toys with me even when you didn't want to."

Spencer smiles a little at the memories. "I think maybe she liked you better," Spencer says.

Ryan nods again, like that is not an unreasonable statement at all. "I was a pretty cute kid," he says seriously. "It's a very real possibility."

Ryan was probably Spencer's best friend while growing up. He was this weird kid who lived down the street, and who liked to play dress up and put on his mother's make up. If anyone was going to turn out gay, Spencer would have placed his bets on Ryan, so it was kind of shocking when Spencer went and kissed Robert Sladeck in 10th grade. Robert was definitely shocked, if the black eye he gave Spencer was any indication.

Spencer takes a finger sandwich off the plate and stuffs it in his mouth. "So what are you doing these days?" Spencer asks around a mouthful of bread and cheese.

Ryan purses his lips and brandishes the tray around. "Oh, this and that. I'm trying to be a writer, which means I'm really just a waiter with a tortured soul, but it's cool."

Spencer nods and they fall silent again. It should be awkward, but it's not for some reason, Ryan standing there, smiling his weird little smile. "So, what about you?" Ryan asks.

"Oh," Spencer says. "I'm just... I dropped out of school, and I'm thinking about going back, just working right now, paying the bills."

Ryan nods and asks, "When?"

"Oh, next semester," Spencer says. He's getting a little antsy, and his palms feel sweaty. He can see Jackie over by the window talking to his Aunt Pam.

"No," Ryan says, drawing Spencer's attention back to him. "When did you drop out?"

Spencer doesn't - There is a long pause as Spencer thinks about it, counting out the time, until he looks down at his shoes. His shoes are really dirty, the tops so dark that he can barely tell they used to be white. "I guess it was like four years ago," Spencer says.

Ryan says, "I went for a year. I keep saying I'll go back, but you know, life and shit."

Spencer nods, his eyes roaming the room until he finds Jackie again. This time she's talking to one of their cousins, who is practically crying all over her. Jackie looks annoyed and uncomfortable, and Spencer suddenly wants to go to her.

"Yeah," Spencer says. "Hey, I think my sister needs me, but it was good seeing you."

Ryan smiles brightly and says, "Finger sandwich?" waving the tray in front of Spencer.

Spencer takes another one and starts to walk away. Ryan says, "Oh, hey," and Spencer pauses, looking back over his shoulder. "There's a party at Walker's house tonight. You remember Jon, right?"

Spencer thinks he does, vaguely. He was a jock, a baseball player, who didn't really run in the same crowd as Spencer especially since Spencer's crowd pretty much consisted of Ryan. "Yeah, he played baseball, right?"

Ryan balances his tray on one hand and gives Spencer the thumbs up. "Anyway," he says. "Jon is totally filthy rich now, and he throws the best parties, if you know what I mean."

Spencer really doesn't, but he nods anyway. Ryan winks and says, "So maybe I'll see you there."

Spencer says, "Maybe," and goes to save his sister from overly dramatic second cousins.

 

###

 

Spencer goes to smoke a cigarette and finds his father outside nursing a beer. There's a moment where he doesn't know if he should turn around and go back inside, or just man up, but his father turns just as soon as he hears the door sliding open, so it seems sort of chicken-shit to turn and run now.

Spencer flicks his lighter and inhales deeply. His father looks away, his face pinched with disapproval. "You shouldn't smoke," he says.

Spencer shrugs and looks pointedly at his father's beer. "You shouldn't drink," Spencer counters.

His father says, "Smoking causes cancer, though."

Spencer says, "Drinking is the number-one cause of death in the United States." He thinks he's heard that somewhere before. He's not sure if it's even true, but he thinks it is.

His father says, "I'm sure you have a beer every now and then too."

Spencer says, "Well, I do a lot of things I shouldn't do."

His father gets up, setting his beer on one of the little patio tables. "Something we can agree on," he says bitterly.

Spencer sighs and rubs his palms against his thighs, the friction from his jeans making them tingly and warm. "I didn't come here to fight," Spencer says, suddenly exhausted.

"Why _did_ you come here?" his father asks.

Spencer opens his mouth to answer, but nothing comes out.

"It's too late," his father says. "Whatever you came for, it's too late."

Spencer wonders if that's true. He thinks about his mother, about the last time he saw her, the way she looked at him, and how Spencer hadn't thought about goodbye. It wasn't going to be the last time he saw her, until it was.

"It's not..." Spencer starts. "It doesn't have to be. For us, I mean," he finishes.

He doesn't know if that's true either. If his mother had called him a week ago, he wouldn't have answered. He wouldn't have called her back, and now? Now he'd give almost anything to hear her voice again.

Spencer's dad says, "I miss your mother."

Spencer says, "Yes, me too."

 

###

 

Spencer helps his sisters put the food away, and then he asks them where Jon's house is. They both look at him with big eyes, and Spencer listens to the house as it settles, the eerie quiet. He sighs and says, "You can drive."

Jon's house is huge. Spencer doesn't remember it being here back when this was his town, so he figures it's probably new, maybe even something Jon built himself.

Jon opens the door when they knock, and Spencer feels kind of stupid. He doesn't even know if Jon's going to remember him. Jon smiles and nods, says, "Hey, Jackie," and then, "Yo, Crystal."

The two of them lean up together and peck either side of Jon's cheeks. He gives them a grin that has Spencer's hands clenching up a little bit, until he reminds himself that they're twenty-four-year-old adults who don't need their big brother interfering in their lives.

Jon moves aside, and the girls go into the house, leaving Spencer standing awkwardly at the door. Spencer shoves his hands in his pockets and says, "I hope you don't mind us crashing. Ryan sort of said it would be okay."

Jon nods and says, "Spencer, right?"

Spencer says, "Yeah. We were in school together, but you were a grade or two ahead of me, I think."

Jon shrugs, like maybe that could be right, and then he says, "Come on in. Mi casa es su casa."

 

###

 

Spencer sits on the couch and Jon sits next to him, reaching for a bong that's sitting, unused, on the coffee table. He pulls a lighter out of his pocket and puts the flame to the bowl.

The sound of the water bubbling gets a few heads turning, and soon there's a little group congregating around the table, waiting for the bong to get passed their way. Spencer shrugs his shoulders when Jon passes him the bong and takes a hit.

"So," Spencer says. "How did all this happen?" He waves his arms around at the house.

Jon smiles kind of stupidly, licking his lips and says, "I designed these shoes called “Slaps”. They just kind of... slap to the bottoms of your feet. Like, there aren't any straps or anything. It's all very freeing." Jon takes another hit off the bong as it makes its way around again. "Anyway, they paid me a sick amount of money for the idea."

Spencer blinks a couple of times, trying to remember the last time he actually heard a real live person use the word sick. "How sick?" Spencer asks.

Jon smiles, passing Spencer the bong again. "Pretty sick," he says.

Later, Spencer says, "So, you just do nothing now?"

Jon's got his head tipped back, his eyes closed, and this little smile on his face. "Yeah," he says. "It's really fucking boring."

Spencer thinks about his odd jobs in LA, about busting his ass everyday waiting tables only to barely make the rent every month. "I'll bet," he says. "Why don't you travel?"

Jon sits up and says, "I don't know. It's like, I thought I was going to spend most of my life bitching about bills and the man and how society doesn't do anything but hold us back, and now? I guess I'm still trying to sort myself out."

Spencer can totally understand that. Spencer's been trying to sort himself out forever, and he's not any closer now than he was ten years ago. "I'm pretty baked," Spencer says.

Jon nods and says, "Yeah," before he turns to the table at large and says, "Let's all roll and play spin the bottle."

One of the girls giggles and crawls across the floor, grabbing a box off one of the other tables. It's one of those old, wooden cigar boxes, and when she flips the lid Spencer sees all kinds of shit inside; pills and weed and baggies of things Spencer would rather not think about.

The girl passes around the pills, and Spencer stares down at his for a long time before he thinks _what the fuck_ , tipping his head back as he swallows it.

They play spin the bottle, and it's all kind blurry, the edges slightly out of focus. The girl with the giggle kisses him at one point, and it's weird. It's been a long time since he's kissed a girl. It's not bad exactly, but that's probably the E winding through his system, making his skin feel thin and stretched and overly sensitive.

He thinks he sees Ryan at one point making out with a girl that looks suspiciously like Jackie, but then there's more spinning and more kissing and more weed, and then, there's nothing at all.

 

###

 

Spencer wakes up with his face pressed into a couch he doesn't recognize. He blinks, sitting up to take in his surroundings. His mouth tastes like something died in it, and his head is throbbing, pounding so hard, Spencer thinks it might explode.

Jon wanders through and says, "Oh, hi. There's coffee."

Spencer follows his nose, and finds Ryan and Jackie sipping coffee together in the kitchen. They both look like they have sex hair, but that's something Spencer doesn't even want to think about.

"Coffee," Spencer says desperately, and Jackie looks up from her place at the table and starts cracking up.

Ryan looks up too, joining in a second later. "Dude," Ryan says.

Jackie says, "I'll make you a cup, but go wash your face first."

Spencer doesn't ask, he just turns and goes to look for a bathroom. He stares at his reflection in the mirror for a long time and wonders how he managed to let someone draw a cock and balls on his cheek without remembering it. He is never getting fucked up again.

He scrubs at his cheek until it's red and raw, and he can still see a faint outline of the damn thing. Permanent marker is a bitch, and if Spencer ever finds out who did this, he's going to punch them real hard in the face.

He comes out of the bathroom and goes back to the kitchen to find a cup of coffee waiting for him. Jackie is gone, but Ryan's still there, reading the paper.

"Hey," he says, looking up and studying Spencer's cheek.

Spencer sits down and grabs for his coffee cup. "Hey," he says back.

Ryan says, "It's mostly gone," and Spencer just nods, before he takes a giant gulp of coffee.

"I'm going to punch whatever piece of shit did that right in the face if I ever find them out," Spencer says.

Ryan smirks, giving him a little thumbs up, and they sit in silence for a little while.

Spencer finally says, "I guess I should find Jackie and Crystal and head home."

Ryan says, "Oh, they left. I think Crystal had to work, and Jackie wanted a shower. I can give you a ride back if you want."

Spencer says, "Sure, thanks."

Ryan says, "No problem," and then, "I'm sleeping with Jackie by the way. I hope that's not going to be an issue."

Spencer says, "Man, I don't... Don't tell me shit like that. I don't want to think about it."

"Fair enough," Ryan says.

They get up, and Spencer rinses his coffee cup, setting it gently in the sink. "Do you know a good psychiatrist around here?" Spencer asks suddenly.

Ryan quirks an eyebrow and says, "I know thinking about your little sister having sex is probably freaky, dude, but I don't think it's something you need to go mental over."

Spencer puts his face in his hands and prays for patience. He doesn't remember the last time he talked to this many people for this long, and he's starting to remember why. "No," Spencer says. "I'm on... I take medication, and I'm almost out. I'm going to need a refill before I get back to LA."

Ryan says, "How long are you planning on staying?"

Spencer doesn't know. He guesses he could probably leave now, and it wouldn't make much difference, but his job gave him a week, and he's here. He's here with his sisters, and there's his father, and he doesn't know if he even wants to try, but he's here.

"A few more days at least," Spencer says.

Ryan says, "I know a good one. Her name is Kara Sanft. She's got an office down on Main."

Spencer says, "Thanks," and the two of them walk together toward the front door. "Should we tell Jon goodbye?" Spencer asks.

Ryan turns around and screams, "Goodbye, Jon," listening to it echo out across the house, until Spencer hears Jon's voice, distant and far off, scream back, "Catch you later, dudes."

 

###

 

Dr. Sanft's office is cheerful with colorful, framed art hanging on the walls, and several potted plants positioned around the waiting area. The chairs are big and comfortable looking and in varying colors of red, blue, green and yellow, reminding Spencer of a box full of crayons.

The office is empty except for one guy, sitting in a red chair, earphones dangling from his ears. Spencer goes up to the receptionist and gives her his information. "It'll be a few minutes," she says.

Spencer nods and goes to take a seat. He sits in a yellow chair at the end of the row, farthest away from the other guy. He picks up a magazine and leafs through it. It's one of those boring magazines that's supposed to teach parents how to not fuck up their kids, and Spencer wonders if his parents ever read anything like this when he was growing up.

The guy at the end of the row says, "How do you feel about The Killers?"

Spencer looks up and blinks, glancing around the room for a moment, before he realizes that the guy is apparently talking to him. "Umm, I don't know what that is, but I'm not generally fond of killers."

The guy nods and says, "It's a band. They're awesome. You should come listen." He holds out one of his earbuds and Spencer isn't sure what he's supposed to do here. It seems sort of rude to just go back to his magazine, especially since he wasn't all that interested in it in the first place, but he's also not sure he wants to go sit next to some random guy in a shrink’s office who is listening to songs sung by killers.

"Okay," Spencer hears himself say. He gets up and moves down the row until he takes a seat next to the guy. He puts the earbud in and listens to the singer lament about his girlfriend looking like someone else's boyfriend. They're actually not bad, and Spencer finds himself tapping his foot along to the beat.

"I'm Brendon, by the way. Brendon Urie," the guy says and he smiles big, his mouth stretching so that it takes up practically his whole face.

Spencer's suddenly struck by how close they are, their heads turned toward one another as they share the earphones.

"Spencer," Spencer says a little breathlessly.

He moves away, leaning back a bit, and his foot curves under the chair. He ends up kicking something, sending it skittering out from under Brendon's chair. It's a helmet. An actual honest to god helmet.

"Umm," Spencer says, looking at the helmet.

"I'm part of a motorcycle gang," Brendon says.

The helmet is fatigue green and padded and looks nothing like something a biker would wear. Spencer says, "Yeah?"

Brendon puts his foot on top of it and slides it back under his seat, nodding his head. "What are you in for?" he asks, tipping his chin toward the door.

Spencer doesn't really talk about this with people, not that Spencer really has people. Spencer is kind of alone most of the time, except for his plant, which is probably dead anyway. "I need a refill on a prescription, and I'm sort of stuck here for a few days."

That's not really the truth, but it's easier than explaining anything else.

Brendon taps his foot and says, "What's your poison?"

Spencer says, "Umm, what?" and Brendon puts his hands in the air like he's weighing something back and forth and says, "Lexapro, Prozac, Zoloft, Wellbutrin? Or, maybe it's not depression, maybe it's anxiety? Xanax, Klonopin, Ativan? What wonder drug do they have working wonders on you?"

Spencer says, "You sure know a lot about psychiatric medication."

Brendon says, "My sister is a psychiatrist."

"Oh, yeah," Spencer says. "Is she any good?"

The door to the inner office opens then, and the receptionist calls Spencer's name. Spencer stands up, and Brendon says, "I have no idea. You'll have to tell me when you're done talking to her."

Spencer looks down, and Brendon is smiling again, humming along to the music he's still got playing in one ear. Spencer shakes his head and says, "It was nice meeting you."

Brendon says, "Was it really? Most people just spout pleasantries when they don't really mean them."

Spencer has no idea what to say, but there's something about Brendon that makes Spencer want to be honest. "Well, it was interesting anyway," Spencer says, and Brendon beams at him, this smile that kind of takes Spencer's breath away.

"Interesting is better than nice," Brendon says as he picks up the other earbud Spencer had been using and puts it in his ear.

Spencer turns and walks to where the receptionist is waiting for him, but he glances back when he gets to the door, and Brendon is watching him, his mouth moving along to whatever he's listening to.

Spencer tells the receptionist, "I'll be right back," and then he crosses back over to Brendon and stands in front of him, waiting while Brendon pulls his ear phones off and hangs them around his neck.

"Yes?" Brendon says.

Spencer says, "It's Nardil."

Brendon looks at him, unblinking, like if he stares long enough he might see something that Spencer isn't telling him. "You must be pretty fucked up," he finally says.

Spencer laughs, and it feels like he's dislodging something that's been stuck in his chest for years. "You have no idea," Spencer says.

Brendon nods, but he says, "I have a pretty good idea."

The receptionist clears her throat pointedly, and Spencer says, "I better go."

Brendon says, "You better. My sister charges by the hour."

Spencer thinks there's a joke in there somewhere, and he's pretty sure Brendon would even laugh at it, despite the fact that Spencer would be insulting his sister. He doesn't make it, though, and then the moment is gone. Spencer says, "I'll see you, Brendon Urie."

Brendon says, "Yes. Yes, you will."

###

Spencer goes to the pharmacy after his doctor's visit, drops off his prescription, and heads back to his parents' house. His dad's house, his brain automatically corrects him, and it seems strange that everything that was theirs isn't anymore. It's his father's house and his father's car and his father's garden. Spencer is his father's son, but he's not his mother's anymore. His mother doesn't have anything anymore. She's nothing, and Spencer isn't sure what to do with that.

Jackie is watching television, the volume turned up too high, and Spencer pulls the remote from her fingers and presses mute. Jackie turns, and they look at each other.

"Did you need something?" she asks.

Spencer thinks that is the most complicated question he's ever been asked, so instead he says, "What ever happened to that violin Mom used to play?"

Jackie takes the remote back and says, "Maybe it's in the attic. I don't know." She turns the volume back on and smiles. Spencer leaves her to it.

He calls Ryan, because he's bored, and he's pretty sure Ryan's not doing anything anyway. Spencer says, "You feel like coming over and going through a dead person's stuff with me?"

Ryan says, "Give me fifteen minutes."

 

###

 

Spencer finds the entire contents of his old room, from his first grade report cards to his graduation day cap and gown. It's weird to see his whole childhood in boxes, weirder to think his mother kept it all, like if she held on to it, she hadn't really lost the person it used to belong to.

"Why do you suppose she kept all this crap?" Spencer asks.

Ryan looks up from a box he's sorting through and says, "Why are we looking for her violin?"

Crystal comes up when she gets home and says, "I think she gave it to Goodwill a few months before the accident. I remember seeing it in the back of her car, anyway."

Spencer doesn't know why, but hearing that it's gone brings him closer to tears than he's been since he got home.

Ryan looks at him solemnly and says, "Wanna go get fucked up?"

Spencer shrugs.

 

###

 

Spencer went to high school with the pharmacist who fills his prescription. The guy gives Spencer a _look_ when he lays the bag on the counter, and Spencer remembers why he hates small towns.

"I remember you," the guy says. "We had Mrs. O'Hare together, 11th grade.”

Spencer remembers too. The guy had halitosis and creepy eyes, though it seems like he finally got the bad breath under control.

Spencer says, "Yeah. Mike, right?"

Mike nods and smiles, like he and Spencer are long lost friends newly reunited. "How long are you in town for? We should go grab some beers," Mike says.

Spencer thinks he would probably rather spend an entire evening alone with his father than grab drinks with creepy-eyed Mike. Spencer opens him mouth to make an excuse, but nothing comes out.

Spencer's about to concede when Brendon suddenly appears at his elbow. "There you are," Brendon says.

Spencer looks at him, confusion apparent on his face. Brendon is holding his helmet in one hand, and he wraps the other one around Spencer's arm possessively. He says, "We're going to be late if we don't leave right now."

Spencer's brain finally catches up and he says, "Oh, right." He looks at Mike and grabs up his prescription. "It was nice seeing you, Mike," he says, waving at him awkwardly with his package in his hand.

Brendon tugs on his arm, trying to hurry him along, and Mike gives a jaunty little wave. He doesn't mention catching up again, and Spencer is extremely grateful.

Spencer walks away with Brendon down the medicine isle and out toward the front door. Brendon says, "That was a lie, Spencer Smith. You were not happy to see Mike at all."

Spencer says, "How did you know my last name?"

Brendon says, "I looked at your file."

Spencer stops, and Brendon's hand is still curled around his forearm, so he stops too, turning until they're looking at one another.

"You... No, really," Spencer says.

Brendon nods, his face completely blank, like he hasn't done anything wrong at all. "It's not like there was much in there," he says.

Spencer thinks about hitting Brendon, but he finds he doesn't really want to, and that confuses him even more. He doesn't get Brendon at all. "You're so weird," Spencer says.

Brendon says, "You too," and Spencer would swear he means it as a compliment.

 

###

 

Spencer ends up at Brendon's house. There are children everywhere, and they all jump all over Brendon as soon as they walk through the door.

"Hey, whoa," Brendon says, tackling a few of them to the floor, while the others jump on his back. "Everyone say hello to Spencer," Brendon says from under a pile of limbs.

All the little heads turn toward Spencer, and it's a little Children of the Corn, but they seem friendly enough, so Spencer waves. They wave back, scrambling up to say hello, allowing Brendon to bounce up off the floor.

"My sisters must be here," Brendon says.

Spencer says, "How many sisters do you have?" because seriously. There are a lot of kids running around.

Brendon says, "Technically two, but I think my brother's wives are here, too, because a few of these guys belong to them."

Brendon takes Spencer by the hand and leads him out of the living room and down a hallway until they get to Brendon's bedroom.

"This is me," Brendon says.

Spencer looks around. Brendon has a lot of pictures, mostly family, but some of them are of people that couldn't possibly be related to Brendon.

"Where were these taken?" Spencer asks.

Brendon looks over his shoulder and says, "I went to art school in New York for a little while, until my parents thought it would be best if I came back home."

Spencer nods even though the answer only makes him want to ask more questions. "What kind of art school?" Spencer asks.

Brendon bounces on the balls of his feet and runs his fingers through his hair. "It was a school for music. I was what you might call a protégé."

Spencer sits down on Brendon's bed, and Brendon sits too, pulling on the picture still clutched in Spencer's hands, until Spencer releases it. "That's William," Brendon whispers, pointing to a pretty boy on the edge of the picture.

Spencer says, "He's hot," without thinking.

Brendon looks up and says, "I'm not going to make out with you."

Spencer says, "What?" because seriously. _What_?

"I'm just saying," Brendon says. "I mean maybe. Eventually, but not today. Is that lame?"

Spencer has no idea what to say, or if Brendon is even going to shut up long enough to let him speak should something profound come to him suddenly.

Brendon gets up then and grabs a stuffed bear up off the floor. "This is Cuddles," Brendon says, shoving the bear at Spencer. "I've had him since I was a baby."

Spencer says, "You are seriously weird."

Brendon chews thoughtfully on his lip and says, "I know. We should go get a burger. I'm starving. Are you hungry?"

Spencer kind of is, so he shrugs his shoulders and they go for some food.

 

###

 

Brendon has his helmet again, and Spencer really wants to ask, but he's not sure if that's rude or maybe crossing some kind of line or something.

Brendon takes a bite of his burger and looks at Spencer like he's contemplating something. "You look less sad today," he says finally.

Spencer wasn't aware he looked sad before. "I'm not sad," Spencer says a little defensively.

Brendon smiles, licking a little ketchup off his finger. "I think you're the saddest boy I've ever seen, Spencer Smith," he says.

Spencer bristles, the muscles in his forearms tightening until his veins stand out, bright blue under his skin. Brendon reaches across the table and thumbs over one of them, a slow drag that has Spencer's skin sparking in a little trail everywhere his thumb travels.

Spencer says, "I'm hardly a boy."

Brendon nods, and they hold each other’s gaze for a long time. Spencer feels exposed in a way that only seems to happen when he's around Brendon. "What's up with the helmet?" he asks.

It's out of nowhere, and Spencer can tell it throws Brendon a little, making his cheeks flush with color. Despite that, he answers without much hesitation. "I have seizures," he says. "I have to wear it to work and stuff or my insurance won't cover me."

Spencer stares, because he honestly has no idea what to say to that.

"It's weird. I know," Brendon says. "You can laugh. It's kind of funny."

Spencer does laugh. It's just... It's ridiculous and kind of a perfectly fitting illness for Brendon to have.

"Oh my god," Brendon says. "I can't believe you actually laughed. Did your mother not teach you any manners?"

Spencer sobers up instantly, and he doesn't know why he says it. It's like his brain-to-mouth filter is missing around Brendon, and whatever pops into his head just comes right out of his mouth. "My mom is dead," Spencer says.

It feels strange saying it out loud. Other people have said it, his sisters, his father when he called to tell him, Ryan, but Spencer hasn't said it yet. Spencer hasn't made it real.

Brendon's eyes widen a little. "I'm sorry," he says. "That's terrible. When did she die?"

Spencer pushes his fries around on his plate. "Saturday," he says, and watches as Brendon's eyes get even larger.

"Oh my God," he says. "That's... How did it happen?"

Spencer doesn't say anything right away. He can't stop looking at his plate.

Brendon says, "Jesus, ignore me. That was so nosy. I'm sorry. Just forget it."

Spencer says, "No, it's okay. She was driving home, and it was raining, and she lost control of the car."

Spencer is still looking down at his plate, and when he looks up there are tears streaming down Brendon's face. "Why are you crying?" Spencer asks.

Brendon says, "I don't know. It's sad."

Spencer can't really argue with that, but he wonders why a complete stranger can cry for his mother, and he can't.

 

###

 

They stand on Brendon's doorstep, and Brendon launches himself against Spencer's chest, hugging him tightly. "We should hang out tomorrow," he says.

Spencer says, "Yeah, okay. I'll call you."

 

###

 

Ryan calls the next morning. "Get up," he says. "I'm taking you on an adventure."

They meet for breakfast at a crappy diner off the main drag. "This food sucks," Spencer says.

Ryan nods and soaks up more of his egg yolk with a piece of burnt toast. "We have to go by Jon's first. We have a business deal to conduct."

Spencer's pretty sure he doesn't want to know. "I kind of have something to do today, actually," Spencer says.

Ryan looks skeptical. "You don't even know anyone but me," he says.

Spencer says, "I met this guy, Brendon? I kind of told him I would hang out with him today."

Ryan looks at him creepily for a few seconds and then shrugs. "I guess he can come," he says.

That's not exactly what Spencer meant, and he opens his mouth to argue, before he realizes he doesn't really have the energy. He and Brendon didn't have actual _plans_ anyway, so at least whatever adventure Ryan has planned will keep them entertained for a while.

They show up to get Brendon, and Brendon's mother invites them in for tea. They sit awkwardly on the couch drinking sweet tea that's so sweet it leaves Spencer's tongue feeling numb.

"Would you like to see one of Brendon's recitals?" Mrs. Urie asks.

Ryan looks pointedly at his watch, or at least he looks pointedly at his bare wrists, since only people over the age of fifty even wear watches anymore.

Brendon says, "Mom, we don't -"

Mrs. Urie gets up and starts fiddling with an old VHS, and Brendon shoots Spencer and Ryan an apologetic look.

"Seriously, mom. We should go," Brendon tries again, but his mother looks determined.

Spencer says, "It's okay. We have some time," and Brendon smiles at him. It makes Spencer feel like he did something right.

They watch Brendon play piano. He's younger, his face more boyish, but his posture is still just as straight, and Spencer's stomach does cartwheels as he watches Brendon's fingers flying across the piano keys. It's maybe one of the hottest things Spencer has ever seen.

"You're really good," Spencer says when they get to the end.

Brendon's mother says, "He's my little genius."

Brendon laughs, standing up and bowing dramatically to the room.

Ryan says, "We should go," and Brendon and Spencer nod in agreement.

Mrs. Urie says, "You take care of my baby Mozart," as she ruffles Brendon's hair. Brendon bats her hands away, looking annoyed and flustered, and it makes Spencer's chest ache.

"I will," Spencer says seriously, wrapping his hand around Brendon's neck in a friendly manner.

 

###

 

They go to Jon's house and Jon gives Ryan a brown bag and an envelope full of money.

"Are we dealing drugs?" Brendon asks. Spencer and Ryan turn to look at him, and Brendon leans back on his heels, putting his hands in his pockets. "Because that would be cool," he says.

Spencer looks at Ryan and says, " _Are_ we dealing drugs? Because that would _not_ be cool."

Ryan smiles and says, "You worry too much, dude. It's all good."

They get back in Ryan's car and Brendon says, "Holy shit."

Spencer looks over at him, startled and says, "What? Are you okay?"

Brendon looks around the car, his fingers running through his hair nervously. He lets out this little hysterical laugh and say, "I forgot my helmet."

Spencer says, "Oh. Do we need to go get it?"

Brendon looks up, his face full of awe, and he laughs again only this time it's bright and happy. "I just... I haven't forgotten it in years. If I fall and crack my head open and my brains leak out all over the sidewalk I'm holding you personally responsible, Spencer Smith."

Spencer grins and it's corny. It's totally ridiculous, but he says it anyway. "I promise I'll catch you if you fall."

Brendon smiles at him blindingly, making Spencer's heart clench hard in his chest.

Ryan makes gagging noises from the front seat and says, "Please shut up. You two are disgusting."

 

###

 

They end up going to this little music store in the shitty part of town, and Ryan leads them downstairs to the basement, where some guy is sitting on a disgusting-looking couch.

"This is Gabe," Ryan says.

Gabe doesn't say anything, because Gabe is watching porn on a crappy little television in the corner of the room.

Brendon sits on the edge of the couch next to Gabe and leans his head to the side until it's almost upside down. "What is he doing to her?" Brendon asks.

Gabe gives Brendon this evil sort of smile and says, "Well," drawing the word out as he leans in close to Brendon's ear.

Spencer is seriously going to throttle Ryan. He grabs Brendon around the wrist, pulling him away from Gabe and says, "Can we please get the fuck out of here?"

Ryan says, "Come on, Gabe. Here."

He shoves the bag at Gabe, who peers inside it, grins, and says, "The Cobra is pleased with your offering, Ross."

Ryan rolls his eyes. "Just give me what I came for," he says.

Gabe waves him off. "This dude is totally about to come on this girl's face. I don't want to miss it," he says.

Spencer takes a step forward. "Look asshole, just give us whatever it is we came for and quit trying to corrupt the innocent."

Gabe looks up and drags his eyes over Brendon's body hotly. "Innocent, huh?" he says.

Brendon puts his hand in Spencer's back pocket. "I'm totally not innocent," he says.

Gabe waggles his eyebrows and says, "Do tell me more."

Spencer takes another threatening step forward, and Ryan puts a hand on his shoulder to restrain him.

"Man, what the fuck?" Ryan says, giving Spencer a strange look.

"He's defending my honor," Brendon says. "It would be sweet if it wasn't so retarded."

Gabe laughs and on screen, someone groans loudly. The four of them turn their heads in time to see the guy coming all over the girl's face.

"Now that's what I'm talking about," Gabe says. He gets up and stretches, walking across the room to where a box is sitting in the corner.

Ryan says, "You couldn't have just told me it was here to start with?"

Gabe shrugs and says, "I was educating you all. The Cobra likes people to be well-informed."

Ryan grabs the box out of Gabe's hands and tilts his head toward the stairs. Spencer grabs Brendon's hand and gets them the hell out of there.

 

###

 

Brendon climbs into the back of Ryan's car and pulls Spencer in with him, twining their fingers together. Ryan gets in and turns over the ignition. As they drive it starts raining again.

"You're seriously not going to tell me what's in the box?" Spencer asks, leaning over the seat from the back.

Ryan shakes his head and keeps driving. Spencer wants to push it, but the rain is really coming down, and he wants Ryan to be careful more than he wants to know what's in the box.

Brendon says, "Where are we going now? Is the adventure over?"

Ryan shakes his head, but doesn't say anything else. He pulls into a parking lot a few minutes later, and Spencer recognizes the place instantly.

"We used to come here when we were kids," Spencer says.

Ryan nods, turning around in his seat to smile at them.

Brendon says, "It's a junk yard," and Spencer laughs at the disdain in his voice.

"Come on," Ryan says, grabbing the box off the passenger seat and exiting the car.

They all run, their clothes and hair getting soaked through almost instantly. Ryan takes them through the yard, past various totaled and junked cars and around a corner. There are more cars here, but they're surrounded by Christmas trees, and Spencer remembers how they used to collect trees after Christmas, using their bikes to drag them down the street.

"A Christmas tree fort," Brendon says, ducking inside enthusiastically. Spencer and Ryan follow, and it's not exactly dry inside, but it's better than standing out in the downpour.

"We used to build them here when we were kids," Spencer says, taking a seat next to Brendon.

Ryan pats his pockets and pulls out a joint. It takes him a couple of tries to get his lighter going, but soon enough the joint is burning, filling the fort up with smoke.

Spencer quirks his eyebrow when Brendon takes it and sucks on the end. "What?" he asks, passing the joint to Spencer.

Spencer says, "I wasn't sure you smoked."

Brendon rolls his eyes and says, "I went to art school in _New York_ , Spencer. I'm not without my experiences."

Eventually, Ryan passes the box to Spencer and tilts his chin up like an invitation. Spencer pulls the lid open, and the cardboard practically disintegrates in his hand. The whole box is completely water logged. There's a bunch of bubble wrap inside, and it takes Spencer a minute to get through a piece of tape holding it together, but eventually he succeeds.

Nestled inside the box is his mother's violin.

Spencer's throat closes up. He looks at Ryan, and he doesn't know what to say. Ryan just smiles his weird little smile, and hums under his breath.

"I don't know what to say," Spencer says.

Ryan says, "Play us something," and Spencer shakes his head and says, "I don't know how."

His chest feels tight, like if something doesn't happen he's going to fold in on himself until he's nothing, until he ceases to exist. Brendon reaches out and touches his fingers to Spencer's neck, and Spencer flinches away, stands up, hunched over in the small tree fort. He pushes some branches aside and storms back out into the rain.

The wind is loud, whipping the water around so hard that it feels like little rocks hitting Spencer's face. His chest _hurts_ , and he doesn't know how to make it stop. He turns around, and Brendon and Ryan are standing there behind him, both of them soaking wet again, water dripping off of Brendon's eyelashes and down Ryan's neck.

Spencer climbs up onto the bed of one of the trucks. He can see out, over all of the other cars. There are no stars tonight, too many clouds covering the sky, and it looks like a blanket, black and thick enough to cover them all.

Spencer opens his mouth and screams.

He screams and screams and screams, and at some point Brendon and Ryan make their way up onto the truck bed and start screaming too, the three of them with their heads tilted toward the stormy sky.

Spencer screams until his voice is raw and sore. He closes his eyes and turns, and Brendon is right there, wet and beautiful and maybe just as fucked up as Spencer is. Spencer puts his fingers against Brendon's neck, somehow still warm despite the rain. He puts his hand on Brendon's neck, and he leans in and kisses him.

He puts everything he has into it, all of his anger and his sadness and his desire into this one act, and Brendon opens up and takes it. Brendon takes everything Spencer is giving him, and he doesn't hold any of himself back.

 

###

 

Ryan drops them off at Spencer's house.

"You'll be going home tomorrow, I guess," Ryan says.

Spencer nods and shivers when Brendon's hand closes tightly around his.

"Yeah," Spencer says.

Ryan nods and says, "I drew that cock and balls on your face at Jon's party."

"Fuck you," Spencer says.

They sit quietly for a few minutes, the rumble of the engine and the rain are the only noises for a long time.

"Is that what today was about?" Spencer asks suddenly.

Ryan smiles, shaking his head. "Nah," he says. "I just wanted you to have it. The other thing was just funny, but then I felt kind of bad."

Brendon snorts, pushing his face against Spencer's shoulder. "You both suck," Spencer says.

Ryan says, "Yeah, yeah. Get out of my car."

Spencer curls his hand over Ryan's shoulder and squeezes. He says, "Thanks," and Ryan says, "Don't be a stranger."

Brendon opens the door and tugs on Spencer's hand. Spencer clutches the violin in his other one, and they make a run for the front door, together.

The house is freezing, and Spencer listens to the chattering of Brendon's teeth as they walk up the stairs. He leads Brendon to the guest room he's been staying in and sits him on the edge of the bed, before he goes back out into the hallway to get some towels.

Brendon has already pulled his shirt off and is working his wet jeans down his legs when Spencer gets back. He sucks in a breath and watches as more and more of Brendon's skin is revealed. Brendon looks up and sees him looking.

"Hi," he says.

Spencer doesn't think he can talk now. He feels exhausted down to his bones, so he just walks to Brendon and hands him a towel.

Brendon takes the towel and flings it over his shoulder. He reaches out and starts on the buttons of Spencer's shirt, working the wet material off Spencer's shoulders and letting it drop to the floor in a squishy mess. He moves his hands to the front of Spencer's jeans next, and Spencer's breath hitches when Brendon's knuckles drag across the sensitive skin of Spencer's stomach.

Brendon works Spencer's jeans and underwear off. Spencer's been naked in front of people plenty of times, but he's never felt like this before. He's never felt this peeled open, this exposed, and when Brendon looks at him, he can't look away.

Brendon takes the other towel that's still hanging loosely from Spencer's hand, and he uses it to towel Spencer off, his face and his shoulders and his chest. Spencer starts shaking somewhere along the way, and he can't seem to make himself stop.

Brendon pulls Spencer over to the bed and pushes him down until he's sitting on the edge. Spencer reaches for him, but Brendon steps away, shushing Spencer when he opens his mouth to protest.

The violin is on the dresser, and Brendon walks over and gestures to it. "Do you mind?" he asks.

Spencer swallows and shakes his head, breathing fast and hard, as Brendon picks up the violin and walks back over to the bed, his wet boxers clinging to the curve of his ass.

He sits down next to Spencer and drags the bow across the strings. It takes a few notes for Spencer to recognize it. It's not something his mother ever played, but it's beautiful anyway. Brendon plays through to the end, and then he sets the violin gently on the floor and starts singing, strong and warm, "Who saved a wretch like me. I once was lost but now I'm found, was blind but now I see."

Brendon reaches out and runs his thumb along Spencer's cheek. "You're crying," Brendon says.

Spencer nods and watches as Brendon licks the tear off of his finger. "I don't usually," Spencer says, the tears still streaming down his face.

Brendon says, "Maybe you just need to sometimes."

Spencer shakes his head. "They're useless," he says. "I don't know what to do with them."

Brendon gets up and moves to straddle Spencer's lap, and Spencer puts his hands on Brendon's hips, anchoring Brendon against his thighs.

Brendon says, "I'll take them," as he leans in and kisses, open-mouthed, under Spencer's eyes, first one, and then the other.

Spencer shudders, tilting his chin back, and Brendon kisses his mouth too, licking away the tears, pressing his tongue along Spencer's bottom lip. Spencer opens for him, and their tongues press together, salty and desperate and safe.

Brendon pushes him back on the bed, and they scoot up together, Brendon kicking off his boxers on his way toward the headboard. Once Brendon is naked, they roll back toward each other, hands and mouths seeking skin, wanting contact.

"You're so warm," Spencer whispers.

Brendon shudders and moans, and Spencer holds on tight.

 

###

 

Spencer wakes up curled around Brendon. They're spooning together, Brendon's back tucked up against Spencer's chest, and Spencer takes a moment to bury his face against the back of Brendon's neck and breathe.

Brendon smells like rain and sex, and it's probably the sexiest thing Spencer has ever smelled in his entire life, but Brendon is breathing deeply, peaceful in sleep, and Spencer doesn't want to wake him. He thinks it's still early if the light coming through the window is any indication, but it could also still be storming outside.

Spencer slides out of bed, trying his best not to disturb Brendon. He can smell coffee, and he finds his father sitting at the kitchen table, staring blankly at the newspaper. He looks up when Spencer comes in the room.

"You're going home today," he says, and it's not a question.

Spencer pours himself a cup of coffee and leans against the counter, hip cocked out more defiantly than he feels. "Okay," he says.

His father curls his hands into fists and bangs one of them hard against the table. "You brought this into our house," he says angrily.

Spencer feels it like a slap, his own temper struggling to break free, like a vicious dog on a chain. "This isn't my house," Spencer says bitterly.

His father's eyes snap up, angry, sure, but Spencer can also see disgust there, and that hurts more somehow. "You're not to bring _that_ into my house," he says.

Spencer suddenly feels eighteen again, only now he's not as scared. Now he knows how it'll all go down, and while being kicked out, _again_ , still hurts more than Spencer will ever be able to admit, at least this time, Spencer isn't terrified about what will happen next. Spencer's future is as uncertain as it ever was, but for the first time in Spencer's life he isn't afraid of it.

Spencer says, "Yes, sir," because this is his father's house, and Spencer doesn't have any rights to it. "I'll be leaving just as soon as I'm packed."

He turns and starts walking toward the door when his father's voice stops him. He says, "Your mother is rolling over in her grave right now."

Spencer turns and throws his coffee cup hard, watching as it crashes against the wall behind his father's head. "Don't you speak for her," Spencer says. "However she felt about me, it doesn't matter anymore. She's dead. There's nothing left of her to hate me."

His father pales, shaking his head. "Spencer we don't - She didn't - _I_ don't hate you," he says.

Spencer suddenly feels so sorry for his father. "Maybe not," Spencer says. "But, you don't know how to love me either. It's okay, though. I'm going to be okay."

He waits for his father to say something else, but maybe there is nothing else. Maybe this is all there is ever going to be, and Spencer is just going to have to learn to live with it.

 

###

 

Spencer takes a cab to the airport. It's the same driver that picked him up, and the cab is still quiet, only this time Brendon is sitting by Spencer's side, holding his hand. They get out of the cab together, and Spencer grabs up his bag with his free hand. Brendon squeezes his other one and doesn't let go.

Spencer would love nothing more than to spend every last minute he has left here with Brendon, but there isn't anyway to get them both through security, and Spencer has to go.

Brendon is crying, and it's breaking Spencer's heart.

"Hey," Spencer says, tipping Brendon's face up so they're looking at one another. "I want to stay, but I can't. I have to go. I have to try and figure my shit out."

Brendon nods, but the tears keep coming, so Spencer does the only thing he can think to do. He kisses him and kisses him and doesn't ever want to stop.

The airport keeps on moving around them, people hugging and laughing and saying goodbye, bags and carts and boxes being wheeled from one end to another. Spencer knows he doesn't have much time, but whatever is left, he's going to spend it sitting right here, kissing Brendon.

Brendon says, "Shit like this doesn't happen all the time, you know. People don't just... This is special, Spencer."

Spencer says, "If I stay here, I'm afraid I'm going to fuck it up. I'm really fucked up. I don't want to fuck it up."

Brendon says, "I won't let you fuck it up."

There's a monitor over Brendon's shoulder, and Spencer can't stop glancing at it, his stomach constricting tighter and tighter for every minute that ticks by.

"I gotta go," Spencer says, standing up and slinging his bag over his shoulder.

Brendon doesn't move as Spencer pulls his ID and boarding pass out. He's crying so hard now that his shoulders are shaking, and Spencer wants to say something to make it better, but there isn't anything, so he turns and gets in line instead.

The TSA agent checking his things looks over Spencer's shoulder and gives him a sympathetic look. It's enough to have Spencer looking back, but when he turns Brendon isn't there. Spencer's heart starts tripping faster and faster in his chest.

"I'm sorry," he says. "I can't." He takes his ID back from the woman, turns away from the security gates and runs.

Spencer knows this is crazy. His heart is beating so loudly that it sounds like thunder in his ears, and Spencer knows that this is completely insane, but Brendon said he wouldn't let Spencer fuck it up, and even if Spencer doesn't quite believe him, he really, really wants to. He wants to believe in Brendon, in them, in himself, and that's more than Spencer's wanted in a very long time.

It takes him maybe five minutes to track Brendon down, but it's the longest five minutes of Spencer's entire life. Brendon is sitting in baggage claim, watching the carousels spin round and round, still crying harder than Spencer can bear.

Spencer walks up to him and pulls him out of his chair, tugging him until he can wrap his arms fully around Brendon's waist.

"What are you doing?" Brendon says, hiccuping through his tears and burying his face against Spencer's chest.

Spencer says, "This is crazy."

Brendon says, "Yeah, I know," stepping back and tilting his head up so they can look at one another.

Spencer steps forward, bringing them back together, cupping his hand around Brendon's neck. "I've only known you for a few days," Spencer says. "And I don't know how you did it, but you completely changed my life."

Brendon shakes his head. "No," he says. "You changed it."

Spencer leans in and kisses him. "I don't want to go," he says. "I'm so fucked up, and I'm scared, but you're right. Shit like this doesn't just happen. People don't just meet and fall in love in a matter of days, and I am. I'm so in love with you."

Brendon smiles and nods his head. "Stay," he says, hands curling into Spencer's forearms. "Stay here with me."

"I'm so fucked up right now," Spencer says. "Promise me you won't let me fuck it up."

Brendon buries his head against Spencer's chest again. "I won't. I won't," he says. He looks up and smiles at Spencer. "And hey," he whispers, his face just inches away. "I know a really good psychiatrist. I can probably get you a family discount, too."

Spencer laughs, pulling Brendon closer until they're both shaking with it. "You're so fucking weird," Spencer says affectionately.

Brendon says, "I know. I know. You too."


End file.
